


The Harrenhal Paradox

by rougefox



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Outlander rip off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougefox/pseuds/rougefox
Summary: Sandor Clegane lies dying by the Trident and begs the gods for mercy. Instead he is delivered two sisters who should have stayed clear of stone circles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of drabble (dribble) that might turn into something more. I haven't written anything in so long I wanted to see if I could.
> 
> Mostly book cannon with some show, don't think too hard about it.
> 
> (And it's the Outlander with Jamie Fraiser not Sean Connery)
> 
> The first scene is based on the heart achingly beautiful artwork Strange Waters of the Trident by bubug.

“You should have gone back for my mother!” shouted the little wolf-bitch over her shoulder as she rode away. 

 

Sandor Clegane blew all the air out of his lungs and willed for none to return. 

 

Alas his body still wanted to live as he unwillingly coughed his lungs full again.

 

The fucking bastard.

 

The pain in Sandor's leg was like a living thing: writhing and twisting, burning up his spine into his brain. In the still air the flies buzzed around his head, landing delicately on the sticky blood matted in his hair. 

 

Somewhere there was the running of water. He licked his dry lips but could not will his arms to move.

 

Above his head he heard sweet bird song. Occasionally he would see Stranger out in the woods; the smell of rot made the animal keep it's distance no matter how loyal the horse was.

 

Sandor closed his eyes and let the dry tears come. 

 

_ Mercy… mercy...mercy… _

 

 

He must of passed out because the next thing he knew the light had vanished from the forest floor. Above his head the sky was shades of red as the setting sun set the sky ablaze. 

  
  


_ Fuck I’m still alive. _

 

Sandor regarded his leg in the dying light. He had seen rot before, but never on his own body. The flesh around the dressings on his thigh looked like spoiled meat and smelled worse. The pain was a dull throb and flies still buzzed around his head.

 

He tried to move his foot, but nothing happened.

 

In the stillness of the night he heard a faint squeaking noise and something lightly brushed his scalp. Craning his head he watched as another small dark form dove from the shadows of the trees.

 

Bats. 

 

Sandor knew the stories of the bats that lived in the Riverlands; to look upon them was an omen of death.

 

 

_ Thank the fucking gods. _

 

 

“Please” he pleaded in a whisper through his dry lips. “Please, mercy… no more…. Help me…. Please….”

  
  


In the sun’s last rays the bats squeaked at him then vanished. 

 

 

Even the omens failed him on this day. 

 

 

Suddenly a breeze moved it’s way through the trees make them wave to and fro. The cool air soothed his hot skin and blew away the tormenting flies. 

 

 

Sandor felt the air crackle around him as if a storm was forming above his head. In the dying light he thought he could make out will o wisps in the distance.

 

 

Then it was gone and all was still in the forest.

 

 

Sandor Clegane breathed out again in a vain attempt to force his soul from his broken body.

 

 

In the painful silence that followed he heard voices in the distance.

 

 

As they came closer he found that they were female and familiar…..

 

 

“Way to go Ms. Perfect score on the MCAT!”

 

 

“Don’t blame this on me Arya! You’re the one with all the survival training!”

 

 

Sandor mind perked up and he strained his ears

 

 

It couldn’t be…..

 

 

“This all started when you had to find that stone circle!”

 

 

“I have explained to you a thousand times! That location is one of the only places to find these herbs!”

 

 

“So how do you explain that flash of lightening, Sansa?! Why is it getting dark at 11:30 in the morning?”

 

 

“I don’t know Arya!”

 

 

Sandor could hear them crash through the underbrush. For the first time that day he fought to stay awake, but delirium was threatening to take him. There was no way the wolf bitch had returned with the Little Bird. 

 

 

Mayhaps he had already died and his personal hell was to be tormented by the sisters forever.

 

 

“... you know I spent an hour trying to find my car at the White Harbor shopping center last Sevenmas, that's why I wanted you to come. Because I needed your help…”

 

 

Sandor heard them still in the forest and a sigh.

 

 

“Alright,” Arya Stark breathed. “Well I haven’t had a signal in an hour, but we still have the radios and the maps and compass.”

 

 

Close in the trees, Sandor saw a bright but small light flare to life. 

 

 

“Look,” spoke Arya Stark to her sister. “We were south of the Trident when we set off this morning and we haven’t seen the river yet. So all we have to do is head north till we hit the water and follow it east till we hit the highway.”

 

 

Sandor heard them walking again, their steps getting louder.

 

 

“I mean we’re in fucking Westeros,” Arya said. “I’m shocked we haven’t stumbled across a hippy gathering or scout camp already…”

 

 

Sandor heard them come out of the wood and into the clearing. 

 

 

“See?” he heard the wolf bitch boast. "The river should be a little bit further."

 

 

Sandor tried to call out but his breath caught in his throat making him wheeze weakly.

 

 

Suddenly the sun exploded in his face followed by screaming.

 

 

“By the Mother!”

 

 

“Holy shit!”

 

 

The bright light vanished from his face and Sandor Clegane struggled to see as spots danced in front of his eyes sending shooting pain out the back of his skull.

 

 

Suddenly the form of Sansa Stark formed in front of him. She was holding a torch that was burning as bright as the sun and passing the light over his body muttering under her breath.

 

 

"No, no don’t look,” he tried to tell her. "Ladies like you shouldn’t see this…"

 

 

Suddenly she rushed to his face and jammed her fingers into his neck.

 

 

“He has a pulse!” she screamed. 

 

 

Sandor heard a loud hissing noise, then a click and a voice calling out; 

 

 

“Mayday, mayday,mayday, this is Arya Stark calling Riverland Forest Tower one, two and three, do you copy? Over.”

 

 

Sansa Stark grasped his face with strong hands and forced his left eye open then directed her torch onto his face. The pain from the searing light was enough to snap him into full conscience.

 

 

“He’s conscience!” She screamed over her shoulder. 

 

 

Once again the hiss filled the clearing before the clicking and Arya repeated her call; “Mayday, Mayday, mayday, this is Arya Stark calling Riverland Forest Tower one, two and three, do you copy? Over.”

 

 

Sansa's hands where in his hair, feeling around his cuts, then unthinkably examining the piss poor dressings on his leg. 

 

 

“Oh by the gods,” she whispered before setting the torch on the ground light up.

 

 

Sansa pulled a sack from somewhere behind her back. She opened it and pulled out a large bladder attached to a long reed. 

 

 

“Sip it slow,” she whispered as she put the end of the reed to his cracked lips and dipped water into his dry mouth.

 

 

The water felt divine and Sandor tried to get as much as he could, even whimpering when she retracted the reed from his lips.

 

 

Sansa crouched close enough to look him in the face.

 

 

_ Hissssss  "click" _

 

 

“Mayday, mayday, mayday this is Arya Stark…”

 

 

“Sir? Can you tell me your name?” Sansa asked. Her voice full of genuine concern. 

 

 

Sandor couldn’t help it when he replied “I am no ser.”

 

 

Sansa chewed her lip, her hair was curled around her head in a red halo. Her stare never flinched from his face.

 

 

“Okay, so what is your name and we’ll deal with the pronouns later.”

 

 

His mind fought to stay aware but none of this made sense. How could she not know him?

 

 

“Sandor Clegane," he finally choked out. 

 

 

Beyond the light he heard Arya Stark scream; **“Godsdamn it Yoren! Put down the porn mag and get me a medevac right fucking now!”**


	2. Chapter 2

As true darkness set in both sisters began to race around the clearing. They unloaded an unrealistic amount of items out of their packs (all of it alien and inconceivable to Sandor Clegane)and shouting at each other;

 

“Arya, I need your leatherman!”

 

”Sansa, do you have my fire starter?”

 

” Arya did you pack the water filtration kit?”

 

”No Sansa, we were only supposed to be out here overnight so all we have are the water bottles!”

 

Sandor opened his eyes and felt the light from the campsite burn into the back of his skull. It was like the sun had set down in their camp: the girls had dawned headdresses that held lights brighter than any fire he had ever seen. He shut his eyes in defense of the painful glare as the beams swept around the clearing.

 

Once camp was set, Sansa approached him again. 

 

“Sandor, you are going to be okay,” she said clearly through the haze of pain. “I am a nurse at Winterfell General Hospital. You’ve been in an accident, but I can help you.”

 

Water was put to his lips and she dabbed away any that dripped down his chin.

 

 

"Sansa, shouldn't we wait till we get someone out here? I mean, we have no antibiotics, no pain killers and this isn't exactly the most sterile environment to do surgery!"

 

"I've work in worse! Keep calling! Someone is out there!"

 

 

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, this is Arya Stark I have a white male approximately two meters tall and 19 stone who needs a med evac ASAP, over"

 

Sandor heard mad giggling out in the camp

 

"Shit Sansa, we're going to need one of those harnesses they use to airlift horses to get him out of here!"

 

"Arya you're not helping!" the Little Bird appeared close to his face, her mouth set in a thin line as she pressed a wet cloth to his cuts.

  


“Do you think it was an animal? A wolf or something?” Sansa asked her sister.

  


“There hasn’t been a wolf in the Riverlands since the Second Targaryen Invasion,” Arya replied. “It might have been a wild dog pack. But judging from his size I’m guessing it was a group of men.”

 

Sansa paused in her poking and  whirled on her sister: "Men! like in _The Mountains Have Eyes?_ Do you think they’re still around?!"

 

Arya's eye grew wide; "Ask him!"

 

Sansa addressed him in a soft tone; “Do you remember what happened, Sandor?”

 

His tongue felt like lead.

  


“Rats…..” he hissed.

  


“Huh,” Arya huffed. “I thought rats only got that big in the Kingslanding subway.”

  


Sansa tutted and turned to her sister; “Could you hand me the scissors out of my pack, smart ass?”

  


There was wrestling and a flash of metal as Arya handed Sansa something.

 

“The laceration on the scalp is a clean cut which should only require some butterfly bandages,” Sansa said as she ran her hands through his hair.” She leaned away from him and he heard a snap as she pulled on a pair of bright robin’s egg blue gloves.

  


“You’re going to be okay, head wounds bleed worse than they actually are,” Sansa said to him as she began to snip the hair around the cut.

  


“Sansa, stop lying to him,” Arya whispered. “If we can’t get an air lift, I doubt he’ll last till morning.”

  


“Then get back on the radio!” Sansa snapped. “Climb a tree and get a cell signal!”

  


Arya’s footsteps vanished into the night followed by a hiss and her voice calling again; “Mayday, mayday, mayday….”

  


“Don’t listen to her,” Sansa whispered close to his face as she pulled and poked his scalp. “I spent a year working as a nurse in the Peace Corps stationed in the Red Sea, so I am not kidding when I say I’ve seen worse. Lets get your head bandaged up and then we'll take a look at that leg, shall we?"

 

Sandor tried to shake her off; "No.... you shouldn't look.... mercy, please...."

 

Sansa Stark was unphased by his words; "You're going to be just fine Mr Clegane.”

 

There was something unspoken under her voice, but Sandor didn’t have the energy to remind her how much he hated liars.

 

"You might feel a little sting," she whispered. She pressed something to his wound that felt like fire. He clenched his jaw to keep from screaming as the pain radiated across his skull and down his neck.

 

"See, that wasn't so bad," Sansa declared as she began to pull at his skin. "I'm going to put a few butterfly bandages on this cut…”

 

She was so close he could smell her; lemon soap and fresh earth. Her breath was sweet like peppermint cakes. If he wasn’t on death’s door he would have made being there worth it.

 

“There!” Sansa declare triumphantly and gently wiped the rest of the blood from his face. “Don’t try to frown so much, you’ll pull on the adhesive.”

 

Sandor closed his eyes, this was almost too much.

 

His eyes flew open again when he felt tugging on his feet.

 

“I ain’t dead yet,” he managed. “Leave me my boots.”

 

Sansa either didn’t hear him or ignored his request. Instead she snorted like a horse and dropped his boots next to his side.

 

“Maybe we’ll see about getting you some foot powder,” she said with a phoney smile on her face. “Or a pedicure….”

  
  


She squatted down and poked at his injured leg.

 

She turned to him and blinded him with the light on her head, “Can you wiggle your toes for me?”

 

Sandor hissed in pain as the light burned into the back of his skull, but managed to move his foot for her.

 

Sansa muttered to herself about “nerve damage” and “muscle trauma” and other such nonsense that sounded familiar and yet foreign at the same time.

 

“You’re going to be okay!” she said for what felt like the hundredth time. Then she started cutting at the piss poor dressing of his leg.

 

Sandor would have screamed and kicked, but the pain went from dull to sharp in a matter of moments as the pressure that held the flesh together opened anew.

 

The last thing he heard before he fainted from pain was the sound of Arya Starks return and her shout of “What’s that smel- holy shit!”

  


The smell of cooking meat greeted Sandor Clegane as he regained consciousness several hours later.

 

The pain in his leg had lessen to a dull ache. He looked down to see it bandaged and wrapped in a cloth he had never seen before. He reached down to touch it and found it light and silky, held together with strips of the thinnest white leather he had ever encountered.

  


“Water?”

 

She was there again, the little bird, chirping at him and offering him a sip from a small metal cup.

 

He took it in his hands and was amazed with it’s lightness. He had never seen metal this thin. The water was cool and tasted like absolution in his parched mouth.

 

She was there again, this time holding out a thin metal plate full of what looked like stew.

 

“It’s just franks n beans,” she smiled as she handed it to him. “The army surplus store only had so many MREs to choose from.”

 

Sandor mentally shook his head. Nothing she said made since, but the boiled beans and sausages tasted better than anything he’d had in a long time.

 

There was a rustling as the wolf bitch entered the clearing.

 

“Sansa?” Arya said in a low unsteady voice. “We need to talk.”

 

“No luck getting a signal?”

 

“Well, no,” Arya replied as she squatted and served herself some stew from the metal pot over the fire. “But I think I figured out why.”

  


“Whats going on?” the little bird asked as she scooted closer to the fire.

 

Arya sat down in the dirt and began to explain in between mouthfuls of food.

 

“Do you remember when we went to see that astrophysicist Imani Xe speak at the White harbor planetarium?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Well do you remember her talk of how the world is flying through space and how because of planetary movement in space the stars were wrong in that movie _Titanic_?”

 

“Arya, what are you saying?”

 

“Sansa, I can’t get a signal and I can’t navigate our way out of here. The stars are all wrong and I’m beginning to believe we're not in a different place, but a different time.”


	3. Chapter 3

The sisters were at each other’s throats;

 

"By the Mother Arya, all I asked was, how do you know?"

 

”For fuck’s sake Sansa!” the wolf bitch was on her feet. “Don’t be “that guy”.

 

Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

“What do you mean “that guy”, Arya?”

 

”That guy! The one in the zombie movie that’s never seen a zombie movie and doesn’t know to shoot them in the head. Or that guy that doesn’t believe in aliens till one’s nesting in his chest. Or the politician who doesn’t believe the scientist about the _thing_ till the _thing_ is trying to blow up the world! That fucking guy!”

 

Sansa stared at her sister.

 

”I don’t want to be “that guy” Arya.”

 

”Well then go a meter into woods and look up Sansa!”

 

The little bird got to her feet and did as the wolf bitch bid.

 

”You should be able to see the light pollution from the highway!” Arya called at her sister's retreating form. “We’re less than 20 kilometers from one of the biggest international airports in Westeros and there are no fucking planes in the sky!”

 

Sansa returned a few moments later, her face gaunt.

 

”I can see the Mother’s Milk,” Sansa whimpered. “I can see into space! I can see the next galactic arm!!!!”

 

Arya sniffed and Sandor realized she was weeping.

 

Having enough of this nonsense Sandor began the arduous task of gaining his feet.

 

Sansa noticed immediately and rushed to his side.

 

“Be careful!” She cried. “I don't have anything to brace your leg and if you move too much your stitches might tear!”

 

”Need to piss,” he hissed at her. “Leave me be.”

 

Sansa shook her head and called to her sister to help him up.

 

In between the swearing and arguing they were able to maneuver Sandor around the tree to piss in relative peace.

 

When he finally limped back the sisters were holding each other. 

 

“Oh Arya,” Sansa murmured. “Where the fuck are we? _When_ the fuck are we?”

 

Arya turned to Clegane: “So, big guy, who’s Prime Minister?”

 

Sandor lowered himself back to the ground. He needed wine more than anything at that moment. Or mayhaps he had too much? For a moment he tried to recall which level of hell doled out which punishments. For the life of him he could not recall the Septan describing the level that inflicted crazy women on the tormented.

 

”What the fuck are you going on about, you doozy cunt?” he hissed.

 

Sansa made an outraged noise in the back of her throat and turned to him. Arya placed a hand in the middle of her chest, staying her sister's advancement.

 

"He called you the C-word!" Sansa hissed at her sister.

 

"I know," replied Arya. "It's not the first time someone's called me that and it wont be the last. Now, chill and start unpacking the tent while I get to the bottom of this."

 

Arya knelt next to him. She pulled a small box out of a breast pocket of her tunic and pulled a small stick from the package. She cupped her hands around the end and a flash of fire lept from between her fingers. She took a deep breath and blew foul smelling smoke at his face.

 

Sandor coughed and spit at her feet.

 

Arya scowled at him and asked: “So what year is it then? Because you look like you should be ripping off tourist at the Renaissance Festival.”

 

Sandor returned her scowl. He was confused, he had no idea what she was referring to but knew it was meant to be an insult.

 

Before he could tell her to fuck off, the little bird appeared behind her sister.

 

”Please help us,” she pleaded. “Last we knew we were in the year 2333.”

 

Sandor stared at her; it never occurred to him that the world would be around that long.

 

"King Tommen is on the throne.," he replied.

 

Sansa cocked her head, "Who?"

 

Sandor almost laughed. Her wide blue eyes, the way her mouth pressed together, and the little crease that formed in between her eye brows: this Sansa Stark looked exactly like the one he had known so long ago when she was confused.

 

He smirked at the little bird: "It's been 300 years since Aegon's Invasion."

 

Arya shot up, knocking Sansa almost into the dirt. The wolfbitch paced around the camp waving her bloody fire stick around as she shrieked. 

 

“300?! 300?!We’re so fucked!”

 

Sansa rubbed her temples before grasping one the brightly colored bags and began digging around in the bottom.

 

"The fucking DARK AGES Sansa!" Arya cried throwing her hands in the air. "We are are hundreds of years from the nearest toilet! A thousand years from antibiotics! Who knows how many fucking years from tampons and chocolate!"

 

Sansa pulled out a small container, stood and shoved it into her sister's chest.

 

"For fucks sake Arya, roll yourself a joint and calm yourself down,she said through clinched teeth. "We need to focus on the survivalist of our situation to do that I need you to shut up before you attract the attention of whomever tore into our large friend over there." Sansa waved toward Sandor.

 

Arya grasped her sister's shirt: "You don't get it, Sansa: Wylla has been studying this time for her Masters thesis! You know what her thesis focuses on?"

 

The little bird's face turned pale and she shook her head making her red curls bounce.

 

 _"The War for the Dawn, Sansa!"_ Arya hissed through clenched teeth. "The war at the start of the second great ice age that made Westeros a waste land from the Wall to just below the Stormlands. Remember that exhibit at the Winterfell Museum of Nature and Science detailing what life was like during that time? The starvation and giant animals and disease and mass graves?"

 

Sandor felt his stomach drop. It couldn't be possible.

 

"Sansa, if what he says about the years is true, then in 20 years, where we stand right now is going to be under almost 50 meters of ice. Almost half of the people North of here are going to die of starvation and another third south of here are going to die of greyscale. Soon the sun is going to come up later and later till one day it wont come up again for almost twenty years."

 

Arya took a deep breath. "We have to get out of here. "

 

The wolf bitch turned and looked Sandor straight in the eyes. Unflinching she declared; "And you're going to help us."


End file.
